


When Stars are Weeping, I Fly

by sullacat



Series: Across the Universe [3]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 04:57:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sullacat/pseuds/sullacat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"He's two hundred years old and tired, Jim," Bones answered sarcastically. "I'm surprised he hasn't broken down before this."  The Ambassador wishes things were different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Stars are Weeping, I Fly

**Author's Note:**

> I found [two](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/4104.html?thread=9712648#t9712648) [prompts](http://community.livejournal.com/st_xi_kink/4104.html?thread=9698312#t9698312) over at the Star Trek Kink Meme irresistible; whilst I didn't hit them both exactly, I hope they please.
> 
> No infringement intended, no profit made.
> 
> Ideas about Spock Prime's reaction regarding events of 2293 very loosely taken from the novelization "The Fire and the Rose". Very loosely. Idea for photo of Jim and Bones in Bones' office from the story [The Token](http://community.livejournal.com/kirk_mccoy/103022.html) by Fringedweller, because it was awesome and made me squee hard.

> At the Mid Hour of Night  
> Thomas Moore
> 
> At the mid hour of night, when stars are weeping, I fly  
> To the lone vale we loved, when life shone warm in thine eye;  
> And I think oft, if spirits can steal from the regions of air,  
> To revisit past scenes of delight, thou wilt come to me there,  
> And tell me our love is remember'd, even in the sky.

 

The captain of the Enterprise was always on hand to personally welcome those who came on board with diplomatic credentials. Today's visitor, however, was special for other reasons.

"Ambassador Spock," Jim called out, right hand raised in the Vulcan salute before extending his hand, both gestures returned by the older man.

"Jim," he answered, one hand reaching out for Jim's shoulder as if to steady himself, as he stepped off the transporter platform. "It is good to see you, old friend. You are well?" he inquired.

Kirk gave him that brilliant smile. "I am. We all are," he said, turning his head to include Commander Spock, standing in the wings next to Scotty in that pronouncement.

"Commander Spock," the older man nodded his head.

"Ambassador," his younger self replied.

"Have you heard from the Bre'el?" the older statesman asked as they all stepped into the hallway leading to the guest suites.

"Last communications were this morning. The conference is set for five days from now on Bre'el IV," Jim answered rather efficiently. "Commander Spock here will be our representative, as Starfleet believes his temperament, and yours, are better tuned to the Bre'el." Jim rolled his eyes at this, but secretly thought it was hysterical to be sending two Spocks. _The Bre'el will never know what hit them..._

"May I see you to your quarters?" Spock asked his older self, who nodded in agreement.

"Please let me know if you need anything while on board," Jim told him as he headed down the other hallway, back toward the bridge.

Walking down the hall, the Ambassador found himself slightly distracted by the Enterprise. It had been nearly three years since he'd first been on board, and he still felt a surge inside each time he walked her halls; a surge that this time he pushed away immediately as he tried to concentrate on young Spock.

"I've heard much about your travels, sir. You've become quite a spokesman for the promotion of Vulcan culture." Spock tilted his head as they walked. "I understand that non-Vulcans are being admitted to the newly formed Vulcan Science Academy."

The Ambassador nodded. "I hope the addition of new minds and new ideas will allow for faster advancement of scientific thought. Perhaps someday we shall rival Starfleet Academy."

Spock lifted his head. "Indeed. That would be intriguing." They continued walking quietly until, "Ambassador, a question."

"Yes."

"You call him Jim."

Old Spock didn't debate the fact that it wasn't a question. He simply answered the unasked ' _Why_ '. "Yes, he's -" The older man paused, looking for the correct words. "In my time line I was proud to call him my closest friend." He turned to his younger self as they approached his spacious room. "I admit that not seeing that friendship here, with you, worries me to some extent."

The younger Spock gave him a knowing look. "We have come a long way toward trusting each other. I believe we are friends."

"Jim was everything to me, in ways I cannot ascribe." A pause, realizing he had said too much. The Ambassador returned the look to his younger self. "I hope one day, he will be that to you as well."

 

* * *

 

The older Spock slept poorly that night. He dreamt of his early days on board the Enterprise. His dreams were full of old Captain Pike, then of meeting Jim, of that terrible incident with Mitchell when they'd had to first work together, his first encounter with Jim's heroics and brush with death.

Perhaps because that was in the center of his mind when it happened - that slight break in concentration in his head - Old Spock began to slip into strangely emotional state during the morning briefing with Kirk, Spock, and other members of the delegation the Federation had sent to attend the conference. The Ambassador began speaking loudly about old meetings he'd attended, confusing the people in the room with people who weren't there, people who didn't exist yet.

Spock became even more agitated when he tried to warn the room about the Khitomer Conference, yelling that there was a conspiracy, that everyone was involved, Klingons, Romulans, Humans - everyone. Kirk contacted sickbay, McCoy bursting into the room with his hypospray in hand, only to find that Commander Spock had already stepped behind his older self, and disabled him with a nerve pinch.

 

They'd beamed him directly to sickbay, where Bones began working on him, after shooing everyone out but the captain and first officer. "What do you think is going on?" Jim asked. "Is this some sort of illness?"

"My first guess?" Bones shook his head. "Exhaustion. He's not sick, not in the traditional way you're thinking. But is it any wonder, with what he's had to do this last few years?" The Ambassador's medical bed beeped softly as it took his vital signs, Bones looking down at the computer screen, frowning. "I doubt the man's stayed still in one place for more than a few weeks since he arrived in this time."

"But would that account for the yelling and screaming? That was unlike anything I've ever seen from a Vulcan," Jim said quietly, looking over at the younger Spock. "He was _yelling_. Do you know what could prompt that?"

Spock remained impassive, watching his older self as he lay there. Jim and Bones exchanged a look.

"Jim?"

Everyone turned to the medical bed, where Spock lay, blinking his eyes. Kirk walked over to the bed, looking down at the older man. "Ambassador, is there anything I can do to help?" he asked.

Spock reached for his hand, bringing it to his cheek. "Jim," he said, sighing deeply. "You're here." A tender smile hinted at his lips. "Do not be so sad, my friend. I shall be fine." With that, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep.

Jim left the hand there, as surprised as anyone in the room at the display of overt emotion from the older man. His eyes caught Bones, who looked more worried than jealous. There was something utterly sad about the whole situation, everyone knew. Jim looked back down at Ambassador Spock as he removed his hand slowly. This man had been through so much, and Jim imagined this is what it would be like, watching a grandparent lying in sickbay. "Keep me notified of any changes in his condition," he told Bones, who nodded as he turned away, heading out the door and back to the bridge.

It went unspoken that they'd be discussing it at dinner.

Jim was walking down the hall when he heard someone calling after him. Turning, he saw Spock following him. "Captain, a word?"

"Shoot."

The flush on his cheeks was unexpected. "Captain, I feel the need to apologize."

Oh. "There is no need, Spock."

"Still," the Vulcan continued, "I feel there was something inappropriate about what happened there."

"That had nothing to do with you," Jim replied a bit stiffly.

A raised eyebrow. "I suspect that had little to do with you either, sir."

"Point taken, but I am here, and I'm not going to do or say anything that's going to embarrass him." They'd made it to the lift, and when Kirk stepped on alone, Spock remaining in the hall, he realized he was the only one heading to the bridge. "Perhaps you're the one who's embarrassed," he said, leaning against the open lift door, arms crossed.

Spock's shoulders fell as his gaze hardened.

"Look," Jim said, staring back, "the most important thing right now is to get him better and ready for the conference in five days. We don't need Bre'el trying to back out because he's incapacitated. Too much is riding on this. Do you want to talk to him?"

"I will, if you think that's best. "

Jim rubbed behind his head, sighing. Give him Romulans aiming photon torpedoes at him any day. _This_ was the shit he hated. "I'm going to talk to Bones about it later. If he thinks a heart-to-heart with you will do the Ambassador some good, then go for it. Otherwise... just do what feels right."

A lift of the eyebrow.

"Oh, don't give me that shit," Jim cracked a smile. "I know you know what it means."

 

* * *

 

"So Doc, what's your prognosis?" Jim asked as Bones entered his quarters that evening. One could see the weariness rolling off the doctor's back as he pulled off his boots and made his way toward Jim.

"He's two hundred years old and tired, Jim," Bones answered sarcastically. "I'm surprised he hasn't broken down before this."

"We sort of need him for the conference. There has to be something you can do to get him up and on his feet for that."

"I'm not going to rush and get him better just so you can go and have him wear himself out again," McCoy replied brusquely even as he reached out to touch Jim's shoulder, his hands rubbing gently. "The man needs rest. He needs medical attention, not just his body, but his mind."

"That stuff going on upstairs," Jim pointed at his brain. "How is rest going to help that?"

"It might just be that sitting still for a few weeks will acclimate him to the fact that this is, in fact, the twenty-third century." Bones walked over to the desk where he usually kept his things when he stayed with Jim for the night, emptying his pockets. "I don't think that's always apparent to him, especially..."

"Especially what -"

"When he's here, Jim. When he's around you, and the Enterprise." Bones face scrunched up as it was wont to do when he was cranky and knew it was an unfounded sort of crankiness.

Luckily, that look undid Jim every time. "Look," he said, walking behind him and wrapping his arms around him. "You need to talk to him. I know you're an accomplished psychologist. You're the only one even remotely qualified in this entire sector, and we don't want this information about him to get out to the wrong hands."

"Jim, the Vulcan mind isn't anything I'm remotely comfortable poking around in."

"Then talk to Spock. Our Spock." He bit his lip at the growl that elicited from the man in his arms. "Look Bones, we need this guy to get this treaty signed. I need you to get him back on his feet," he said, his voice sharper this time. Pulling rank in the bedroom wasn't something he ever enjoyed doing, but Bones had to know this was serious.

An equally dark look was his only response. "Alright then," Jim said, leaning into Bones, trying to lighten the mood. "You hungry right now?"

"No, not really."

"Good," he said. "I'm going to make you work up an appetite." Jim pulled Bones by the hand and led him to his bed. "Think of it this way," he added slyly as he pulled his shirt off, tossing it on the floor, "I'm giving you the perfect chance to take out all your frustration on me."

 

* * *

 

"I'm sure I don't have to remind you, Ambassador, but anything said here will be kept in the strictest confidence."

They sat in Bones' office, with the door shut, windows darkened. He set his communicator to vibrate for urgent messages only. He'd arranged the chairs to make it more equitable, so they were not physically separated by his large antique desk, though to be honest, Bones wasn't sure the other man would have cared.

"I appreciate that, Doctor, but as you know," Spock settled into his seat, "I'm not entirely certain this is a good idea."

 _Well, that's one thing we agree on_ , Bones thought to himself. "I understand. However, we promised the captain that we'd give it a shot." There was a look that passed over old Spock's face whenever Jim was mentioned that made Bones' chest tighten, even though he knew it was foolish.

"We did." Closing his eyes, he seemed to center himself, as if in mediation. "Begin," he finally said.

Bones quelled the urge to smirk.

"Can you tell me, has anything like this ever happened before?"

"Like what?"

"Losing grasp of your emotions. Losing control like that."

Spock looked past his shoulder, at the wall. "To me?" He nodded. "There were times in my youth when I found it difficult to control them, but losing control like that?" He shook his head. "Just once. Stardate 2293." He turned his eyes back toward Bones, a haunted look in them that Bones wouldn't have believed possible. "Right after Jim's death."

Bones felt the chill run down his back. _Push it aside, McCoy_ , he told himself. This was about making Spock better. "Tell me about what happened to you."

He shrugged. "I lost control of my emotional core, the part of my brain that keeps me focused on the logical aspect of everything snapped. It all became too much, too much hurt, too many feelings, and they ran so deep, so incredibly deep." It was _eerie_ , watching him talk about it all so calmly, so poised. But his eyes told another story. "I went back to Gol to undergo the Kolinahr, which I'd never completed in my youth. I had decided to purge myself totally of all human emotion, in an attempt to regain control."

"That's a very extreme measure," Bones said.

"I had to do something to counteract the pain of losing the man I'd loved for nearly thirty years." Bones was unable to keep the look of shock off his face at that pronouncement. "I believe the time lines have diverged enough that very little of what I have to say about my personal life can affect the new future that's been created."

Spock's eyes moved toward the bookshelf next to Bones' desk, a photograph of Bones and Jim, laughing and smiling at each other, prominently displayed next to one of a young smiling girl. "It's you and Jim this time, isn't it," he asked, a bit of a resigned look in his eyes.

Bones doesn't answer, has no answer that he can say right now. Standing, he walked over to his desk drawer, opening it and pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. "The you I know that works on board this ship doesn't indulge," he said. "But I suspect you've been around long enough to know a good drink when you're offered one."

Spock took the drink with a nod, putting it in front of him. "We've done this before, many times."

"Not us - you and someone else."

Spock nodded. "It gets hard, sometimes, in my head. You look exactly like someone I once was close to." A hint of a smile again. "Same with Jim. Same with all of you. I haven't been as able as I'd like in keeping things separate when I'm on board this ship." He looked around, then back at Bones. "The memories can become overwhelming."

"I can imagine."

Spock gave him an evaluating look. "How old are you right now, Doctor?"

"Thirty-four," Bones replied lightning fast. "How old are you?"

It was strange to see even a hint of a smile on his face. "Significantly older than that." Even more surprising when the Ambassador picked up the whiskey and took a sip. "You might find this hard to believe, but I have missed you. I've missed our talks. I find you most unchanged of all, from the past, your relationship with the captain notwithstanding."

"We talked often?"

Spock nodded. "Our discussions were often filled with lively debate and insinuations regarding my parentage."

"Some things haven't changed," Bones told him, filling his own glass again. "Tell me about our talks."

 

* * *

 

There were three places on board the Enterprise that Jim loved being above all others. His bridge, particularly when he was sitting in his captain's chair. There was no rush like it anywhere in the galaxy, of this he was sure. The second was sickbay, which he realized was sort of pathetic, but he loved watching Bones there, in control, barking his orders to the medical staff like the grizzly bear he pretended to be. Watching him use his magical hands to make people well, so gentle when he needed to be. He never felt more loved than when Bones was patching him up, making him whole again.

The third place he loved was the Observation deck, where he could sit and look at the stars as they flew by.

"Hello Jim." Kirk turned his head to see the elder Spock standing near him, as if waiting for permission to approach.

"Ambassador," Jim smiled at him. "Join me?" he asked, pointing at the chair next to him. He wondered if the other Kirk loved this place as well, suspecting as much. That thought comforted him in a strange way.

"Thank you," he answered, sitting down. "The good doctor released me with the promise that I'd 'take it easy'. I couldn't rest, however until I apologized for my behavior yesterday."

"That's not necessary," Jim told him. "I'm just glad you're feeling better. You had me scared there, Ambassador."

"That makes two of us, Jim," Spock admitted. "Does that bother you? The familiarity? I shall stop if you'd rather I address you as Captain."

"No, Ambassador, I mean, please, call me Jim."

"I'd ask you to call me Spock, but I imagine that name is already assigned to someone you know." A curious look. "My counterpart still does not use your first name?"

"I've managed to get it out of him occasionally, when we're off-duty, but it doesn't come naturally. Not yet," Jim added.

"Yet you two are a formidable team."

Kirk smiled. "We're very good together. He always has my back."

"You trust him?"

Jim felt as if he was being interviewed. "With my life," he answered, and he'd had to on occasion. "It's an interesting balancing act - his brain, my balls. We've gotten into and out of more scrapes than you can guess."

"Your activities have been well-documented, Jim." Spock sounded more like a father now, and Jim wasn't sure he liked it. "Starfleet is watching you, and your crew, and I suspect there are as many people pleased as not with your exploits."

"I don't make decisions in order to be popular," Jim replied.

"And you shouldn't," Spock told him. "Your first obligation is to your crew and your ship, always."

Jim nodded, gaze moving back to the window. "Do you feel better?" he asked, wanting to get the conversation topic off of him.

"I do," Spock answered. "Dr McCoy's suggestion of rest is a good one, and I assured him one I'd listen to." He stood, taking a deep breath. "And I believe I shall turn in now, following that advice."

"Bones is the best."

"That he is - that much has not changed," he said to Jim, walking away at the curious look on Jim's face.

 

* * *

 

It was awkward as hell, but it wasn't as if there were other psychologists in the area he could have beamed in. They just had to get through it before the conference on Bre'el IV began. Bones had three more days with Spock, and as much as he wanted to allow more time for the other man to process their discussions, there simply wasn't enough time.

"Tell me about the last time you 'lost it'," he began.

"Lost it?" Spock asked, sitting in the same chair in Bones' office as he'd done the day before.

"Lost control of your emotions." Bones looked down at his notes. "2293 was the stardate you told me."

Spock nodded. "Ah. The weeks after Jim's accident. I blamed myself for not being there." A fleeting look of pain flashed across his face before the familiar stoic look replaced it. "I was trying to finish the Klingon Empire's formal treaty joining them into the Federation of Planets."

"What happened to him?" Bones asked, both wanting to know and yet desperately _not_ wanting to know - but it would be good for Spock to get his guilt off his chest, even if that meant reliving some terrible moments, times neither one of them wanted to think about.

Spock folded his hands slowly. "It was the maiden voyage of the Enterprise-B." He stopped, taking a long, shuddering breath before continuing. "Jim had retired, but they - Starfleet, that is, wanted him onboard, more for publicity than anything else. There was a distress call," he added slowly. "In the process of saving the crew and passengers of another ship, he was killed."

Bones rubbed his own hands together, telling himself this was someone else, not his Jim. "He wasn't even supposed to be there?"

Spock scoffed lightly. "Jim hated retirement, so he jumped at the chance to get back on board, even for just a few hours. The only place he ever felt at home was in the stars." There was what could be called a lingering smile on his face. "Does it surprise you to hear me talk about him like that?"

"You're talking about someone I don't know," Bones answered placidly. "That's not my Jim."

"No, I suppose he's not. But still, I hope you understand when I say honestly, that on some level I'm disappointed."

"Your counterpart isn't missing him too badly," Bones rejoined.

Spock shifted, his eyebrows moving about his face, telegraphing his thoughts about that. "You refer to his current mate, Lt Uhura." The ghost of a smile. "I must admit, I was surprised by that one. But they do seem devoted to each other."

"Tell me more about your Jim," Bones said, gritting his teeth and listening as Spock began talking about some of their adventures together, only slightly gratified to hear his own name in there on a regular basis. But still, this wasn't about him. Spock had to get it all out, so Bones had to listen.

 

* * *

 

Jim wasn't surprised when the elder Spock found him again that evening in the Observation deck. He'd had the empty chair waiting next to him, as if expecting a visitor.

"Your doctor is very smart," Spock said, sliding into the chair.

"I know. He's the best." For a brief moment, he felt almost as if he were keeping a secret from Bones, these conversations. It was as close to being unfaithful as he'd ever been, all the more dangerous because it wasn't about sex. But that was silly... this wasn't cheating. "Have you spoken with our Spock?"

"A bit. I think it makes him uncomfortable talking to me, so I don't push."

"I think he fears disappointing you. Must be like having two fathers watching over you." Kirk tried to formulate the words. "He's not who you were. Does that bother you?"

"Not if he's happy with his decisions."

"But you don't believe that," Jim countered, his voice slightly accusing.

Spock nodded slowly. "I think that he'd ultimately have been happier with you. I was."

Jim's fingers wrapped around his glass. "We're different people than the ones you knew."

"You've had different experiences, yes," Spock agreed. "But who you are, Jim, hasn't changed, and that is the person I loved. The person who loved me back."

"You have to understand how hard that is for me to believe." Jim leaned his head back, staring up. "I mean, I know what you said, and I believe you, but..."

"Jim," the voice was as soft and plaintive as he'd ever heard from a Vulcan. "May I?"

Kirk turned around to see the older Vulcan with his hand extended, shaking slightly. He didn't want to, didn't want to see what Spock's memories of them were, but if this is what the other man needed, needed to get through this, he'd do it. Leaning into the touch, he felt the fingers sliding on his face.

The touch was warm, then the transfer began and Jim shook, as if electrocuted. He heard Spock's voice talking softly to him, heard his own responding, laughing, teasing. He saw expressions on Spock's face that he hadn't known possible. He saw his own face, devastated as Spock's life was leaving his body, only to be overjoyed at his return, saw himself coaxing Spock back to his humanity. He felt waves and waves of love and possession and the deepest friendship and a depth of feeling that he hasn't believed existed in the Vulcan, all that feeling directed toward him. _Love, love, love..._ Feeling himself swaying, he grabbed the arm of the chair, the connection between them dropped.

Hanging his head back, Jim breathed deeply, eyes still closed. It wasn't just the love that surprised him - it was the incredible understanding. His Jim hadn't been the most faithful lover someone could have. He sensed hints of jealousy somewhere very deep down, but none that was ever voiced. Spock took Kirk the way he was, not asking for anything, not demanding anything more than he could give. He accepted all of that, all his flaws, all his arrogance, and loved him deeply just the same, whether they were together or not.

A moment later, he opened his eyes, Spock standing in front of him holding a glass of water. "My apologies, old friend. I admit, though, I wanted you to see that."

"That was amazing," Jim finally said, taking the glass from Spock's hand. "You two, that was intense."

"We had a singularly unique friendship above anything else. It defined us both," Spock sat back down.

"I'm glad you had that," Jim said, his eyes still watering at the onslaught of emotion inside him. He felt overwhelmed by the intense, almost painful feelings of love and loss that existed inside that calm exterior. "Is that what Spock is feeling?"

"I do not believe so - that is, not toward you."

"Are you alright with that?"

"It is not for me to judge what path you or young Spock take. I have lived for 158 years, and it has been a glorious undertaking." His mouth curled slightly as he looked at Kirk, so young, even younger than he'd ever known him in their previous incarnation. "I see now that you are taken care of. Perhaps I needed to know that, somehow. You were the most important person in my life," he said. "And I'm thrilled that you'll live on. Being left behind once was almost more than I could bear."

Spock straightened in his chair, as if adding a layer of distance between them. "I know that this ship is in excellent hands, and I can only hope to assist you in anyway you need. You are not my Jim," he admitted. "But I hope you can understand now when I call you my dearest friend. I mean no disrespect toward any of your current relationships. I simply want to honor what we had together."

"I understand that," Jim told him. "And I would be honored if you continued to feel that way." He was still feeling raw, opened from that glimpse into Spock's past with him. The other him. Fuck, it got to be too much sometimes. He looked out at the stars. They were always the same, never changing. Perhaps that's why he needed them. "It's nice knowing that I've got you out there, looking out for me."

"I was about to say the same," Spock told him, eyes looking out at the same stars, as if somehow understanding.

 

* * *

 

"So, how old am I when I die?"

"Old," Spock answered. It was their third and final session together. Tomorrow they'd be at Bre'el IV, and Spock would be expected to take his place among the delegates. "Jim is the only one of us who died too young. Always too reckless."

"That doesn't surprise me," Bones said. "But that won't happen here."

"Oh?" Spock asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bones looked grim. "I won't let it," he told him.

"My Jim had both of us to watch out for him, and it still happened," Old Spock reminded him.

"You both did a piss poor job, if you ask me," Bones replied. "Why weren't you there when he was killed?" he asked, a slight accusing tone to his voice.

"I had obligations to attend to, trying to mend fences within the Federation." Spock's voice was clear and free of emotion. As it should be. "My place was elsewhere. Jim knew that, he understood that."

Bones almost didn't want to ask. "Where was I?"

Spock tilted his head. "I believe you went home, Doctor."

 _Went home? Left Jim alone?_ He couldn't comprehend a world where he could consider leaving Jim behind. Maybe if something happened to Joanna, but even then...

Of course, this was thirty years in their proverbial future. A lot could happen in that time... but what he felt for Jim wasn't casual. Bones didn't do casual.

He noticed Spock's gaze on him, and wondered how long he'd been thinking. "So you were emotionally compromised, again," Bones asked, wanting to get back to the topic at hand.

Spock nodded. "Once I realized that the feelings were too overwhelming for me to complete my obligations, I returned to Gol to undergo the Kolinahr once more, purging myself of all emotion."

"Pardon me for asking, but it doesn't appear as if it took."

Spock raised an eyebrow in a way that made his face look amused. "It was a mistake, I realized after I had completed the ritual; a mistake you helped me to correct," he added.

"Me?" Bones sounded surprised.

"Yes, you came and found me, and later assisted me with reversing the Kolinahr process. I will always be grateful to you for that," he said.

It bothered him, the way he talked about his other self, the other Bones as if it were him. "That wasn't me," he reminded him. "That was someone else." It all got to be too much sometimes, this crossed time lines bullshit. "What happened to him?" he asked. If it wasn't him, it couldn't hurt to know, right?

"You were quite content, Doctor. I believe you married again, as did I, eventually."

Now it was Bones' turn to raise an eyebrow. He'd told himself that he'd never go down that path again. "And we all lived happily ever after?"

"After Jim's death, I didn't see the others as frequently. We all drifted apart."

"You regret that?"

"Seeing you all, young again, the way it used it be," Spock nodded. "Yes, I wish that I had remained closer to my friends." Spock stood. "Don't let them go, Doctor. Keep them as close to you as long as you can."

"Leaving already?" Bones asked, a sardonic grin on his face.

"I feel as though we've accomplished what we set out to do. I can see that Jim's in good hands." Spock's hands lingered on the back of the chair he'd been sitting on. "Perhaps that's what I needed to know."

"I need to know that you're alright for the conference."

"If you are asking if I am in control of my emotions, you can be assured, Doctor." He looked around at the room, at sickbay, and back at Bones. "I know _where_ I am, and I know _when_ I am. Thank you, again."

 

The Enterprise made it to Bre'El IV's orbit the next morning. Bones joined Kirk in sending off both Spocks and the other delegates to the conference. "Take care of each other," he admonished the three of them before transporting to the surface with Commander Spock. Jim and Bones gave each other a weary look before heading off to their respective offices.

"Dinner?" Jim asked, sounding tired.

"Yeah," Bones answered, giving Jim's shoulder a squeeze before heading back to his sickbay.

 

* * *

 

Later than evening, in Jim's quarters, they sat together across from each other. It had been a quiet meal, Jim talking about Spock's report from the conference. It looked as if the planets of this system wanted to be a part of the Federation, and if brought in, there would be many benefits to both sides.

Sitting here, so comfortable in Jim's room, Bones started thinking about that other future, the one Old Spock talked about. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be just friends with Jim, to watching him develop a stronger bond with another man, a Vulcan no less. How could a Vulcan appreciate Jim's laugh, or the way his eyes were getting those crinkle lines around them when he smiled, or the noises he made when he sank into him, groaning as if his soul were being torn from his lithe body. Or any of the hundreds of things that made Jim the most amazing creature he'd ever know.

No, he could never be 'just friends' with Jim Kirk.

Bones looked up when he noticed that Jim had stopped talking. "Sorry," he said, pushing the last bits of his food around his plate.

"Where'd you go?" Jim asked, laughing. "I know I'm boring when I go all political but damn, Bones, you could at least pretend my shit is interesting."

Bones looked over at him, still not smiling. "Uh oh... what I do?" Jim asked, a smile on his face, but not the real one, not the special one.

"Do you need something more from me?" Bones asked, putting his napkin down on his plate.

Jim's face furrowed. "More?"

Bones sighed. "You and me..."

Jim shook his head. "Sorry, Doc, I'm still not getting you."

"Something between us," Bones finally answered. "Something more formalized."

Jim paused as he set his fork on his plate. "What... you mean like a cake and a party? A piece of paper?" he asked cautiously.

"It can be more than that," Bones told him, trying to catch his eye, but Jim kept looking down.

"Are you in this for the long haul?" Jim asked quietly, finally looking up at Bones.

"Of course I am, you know that... don't you?" Bones asked back.

Jim nodded. "I do - and I don't need a piece of paper telling me that we belong to each other." He paused a long moment before standing, taking the plates to his food synthesizer, dropping them off there. Turning back to Bones, he ran one hand through his hair nervously, looking at him from across the room. "Do you? Need something more?" he asked quietly.

Bones was surprised to hear his voice. "Yeah." He looked up at Jim, _his_ Jim, giving him that smile, the real one that he suspected only he saw. "I didn't know it until right now but yeah, I think I do."

Jim began walking toward him. "Really?" he asked, surprised.

Bones nodded, still shocked at his own reaction. He _did_ want it. "I want that piece of paper that says where you go, I go." Jim wasn't _ever_ going to be alone, wasn't ever going to be bored from retirement, and was certainly _not_ going on any Enterprise-B maiden voyage nonsense, divergent time lines not withstanding. That shit wasn't happening. "That alright with you?" he asked, standing to meet Jim, wrapping his arms around him.

"Hell yeah, its alright. Let's do it," Jim grinned, leaning in as his hands cradled Bones' face, smiling as he kissed him.

"Nothing fancy," Bones said sternly between kisses. "I hate that shit."

"No, nothing like that," Jim nodded, agreeing. His face twisted. "My mom will want to be there," he winced.

Bones sighed. "Jo too, probably. Maybe just something next time we're on Earth."

"Sure, whatever you want," Jim told him as he ran his hands through Bones' hair, leaning in to nuzzle his neck. "Thank you," he whispered.

"For what, the least romantic proposal in the history of marriage?"

"For wanting this," Jim told him, their faces so close he could feel the words as much as he heard them. "For loving me."

Bones brought his hands up to Jim's face. God, he loved this face. "Kid, you have no idea how long I'm going to love you. A hundred years from now it'll still be you and me."

Later that night, Jim watched the stars going by again from his bedroom window as he leaned against Bones, the other man passed out from the most mind-blowing, tender sex they'd had in a long time. Bones' chest rose and fell in rhythm with the beat of the heart that rested under Jim's open palm.

He wished he could have shown old Spock this, how perfect they were for each other. He'd known love in that other timeline, but it hadn't been a relationship, and it hadn't been just the two of them, and it hadn't been Bones, with his strong arms that made him feel safe, and green-brown eyes that saw the fuck-up inside him and loved him anyway, and grizzly bear voice that could make him do anything, and cock that fit inside him like they were made for each other.

With his finger Jim made slow figures over Bones' chest as he lay in the circle of his arms. He drew a heart and a star and Bones name, then his own, and then the stardate, then the word 'forever'.

Bones promised him a hundred years, and Jim intended on making him live up to that and then some.

 

2009.06.25


End file.
